


Lyrium Song

by amanitafragaria



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, F/M, Family Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Reveal, Lyrium Addiction, Past Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-06
Updated: 2015-02-07
Packaged: 2018-03-10 16:47:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3297449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amanitafragaria/pseuds/amanitafragaria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luca is seemingly a low-life mercenary who becomes the reluctant Herald of Andraste after a glut of unfortunate coincidences. When she first looks up at the Breach she has no clue that joining the Inquisition will tear down a decade's worth of her lies. Faced with not only living the truth but saving all of Thedas, she must find the courage to finally stop running. That this courage could come from the Inquisition's buttoned-up Commander is unexpected.</p>
<p>Alternate origin story for F!Trevelyan. Spoilers for Cullen's personal story arc start very early on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Deep Shit

Luca woke up pinned firmly by a tidal wave of pain. As she blinked the stars out from her eyes she realized that not only was it confidently the worst pain she had ever been in but that she was also in a jail cell. She wanted to laugh, what a truly garbage situation she had gotten herself into this time. However as soon as the first chuckle tried to escape her lips, a pain that seemed to travel through her very marrow bloomed from her hand. And then, she realized, so did a green light. The panic set in. 

She had a fucking green magical wound! The metallic smell and feel of so much energy on her body made her feel like vomiting. She retched pathetically and tried hard to not mess on herself.

A guard graciously interrupted as the last of the bile dribbled down from her mouth. He unceremoniously dragged her out of the cell and onto the cold stone at the center of the prison. Cold light glinted off the swords that surrounded her at all sides.

"She's awake Seeker Cassandra!" 

"Thank you Soldier." a voice with a Nevarran accent said. Luca looked up to see a strong angular woman looking down at her with undisguised suspicion and disgust. Another, hooded, stood behind her silently like a shadow. 

It was clear to Luca before this Cassandra woman even spoke that her unknown crime was far more severe than anticipated. Her own memories were so foggy, she must have taken a hit to the head.

"Tell me why we shouldn’t kill you now. The Conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead” she turned to look Luca with malice in the eyes, “Except for you.”  
Luca immediately felt just as sick as before she vomited, the green wound on her hand flashed sharply. This was some serious, deep shit. She was really one of the worst choices possible to be the sole survivor. 

Besides it was so hard to imagine what she could possibly have done to kill what must have been thousands. Trying to think back on it all she could remember after the initial memories of arriving at the temple was what must have been a very realistic and very bad dream. Chased by spiders, saved by a glowing lady and all that. It didn’t even seem relevant. She met Cassandra’s gaze evenly.

"I don’t even know what I could have even done to ‘Destroy the Conclave’. Where would have pulled that kind of fucking power from? My arse? Maker did you think that my bow was a staff?”

Cassandra’s eyes flashed red with anger, she unsheathed her sword and looked about to cut Luca’s head off. “You insolent…” 

For a moment Luca cursed herself for finally letting her dumb mouth get her killed, but the hooded one intervened, stepping in between them.

“We need her Cassandra.”

**\-----**

Luca's mind was rattling with panicked thoughts. Demons were crawling all over the mountain. The sky above her burned bright green.

She gripped her bow tightly and primed three arrows managing to fire each successfully into various abominations. The sights around her were disturbing. However tried to let herself think only about killing every single demon in her sights. She didn't want to die on a demon's claw or even worse Cassandra's sword if she tried to run. 

Suddenly to her flank a demon noticed her and started charging. The movements were unsettling, jerky and wrong. She fired her last arrow into its chest plate. The arrow did nothing to stop the thing from bounding nearer and nearer. Eyeing the demon's distorted limbs tipped with wicked claws Luca drew her daggers and prepared for some very unpleasant close-quarters combat. 

She managed to dodge the first claw, rolling in the snow to the left. But the demon was strong and fast and she was not used to fighting something with that kind of speed. The second claw hit her thigh, cleaving through her leathers. Sharp points tore through the flesh on her leg, leaving deep scratches in their wake. The snow below her bloomed red. 

She gritted her teeth, she would have to do better than that. Using her body's momentum she jumped to her feet and backed away to get better positioning. When she saw her opportunity she charged the demon, throwing her first dagger. The demon knocked it to the ground with a swipe, but she already had the edge. It had bent down into an animalistic hunch, readying itself to savage her. Pushing herself to move as fast as possible she sunk her other dagger into what Luca estimated to be a neck.

Black blood sprayed from the demon, but even then she could not be sure of a killing blow. She pulled the dagger out for another strike and disappointingly the demon seemed to be doing the same. Luca knew that she was about to take a hit and could only hope it wouldn't be to her head or lightly armored side.

Suddenly, the thrust of a sword ripped the demon's abdomen completely open. Luca shuddered at Cassandra's sheer strength. The woman pulled the sword out and the demon fell almost taking Luca with it. Cassandra did not wait for a thanks. 

“That is the last one for now. Gather your arrows and keep moving.” Cassandra said with pure steel in her voice. It was like a sword on Luca's throat. She obeyed. 

As they made their way up they had to dodge all manner of green burning projectiles. Luca's hand throbbed, the pain worsened every time something large was hurled from the Breach. It surprised her that it hurt even more than her wounded leg. She shuddered at the idea of being connected to the Breach.

“Get ready.” Cassandra said as they heard the sounds of battle. Luca notched an arrow and followed her lead. Luca jumped over the wall and managed to hit a demon. She was slightly surprised when a crossbow bolt joined her arrow in the demon's flank. 

She looked to her right and saw a dwarf wielding a hell of a crossbow. She would have to ask about it later. She kept up her rate of fire. Slowly but surely she and the dwarf, Cassandra and an elven mage managed to kill all of the demons. Then it was only the rift rippling and crackling in front of them.

The elf grabbed her arm and angled it to the rift. She was about to push her dagger to his throat when the mark connected to the rift in a green flash. The feeling was indescribable, it was like her very bones burned with energy. Then as suddenly as it started it was over, she felt herself stumble backwards.

The elf was smug. “My theory was correct. You can close the rifts.”

Luca was scowling, although some part of her knew it was petty. “Don't touch me like that ever again.”

The elf raised an eyebrow, sunlight glinting somewhat off of a bald head. “Are you not amazed? You have achieved a feat that nobody has every been able to accomplish.” Luca growled.

“Do not forget you are our prisoner, mercenary. I would not be so rude.” Cassandra said from behind them.

Luca looked at all of them with suspicion. “I would appreciate at least an introduction to my jailors, since I'm putting my ass on the line for your sakes.”

“Calm down, Scar. Me and Bianca have no problem with you, neither does Chuckles there. We're not Chantry. I'm Varric Tethras, businessman and occasional author.” Luca's eyebrows raised. _The_ Varric Tethras?

“Scar?”

“You got a pretty impressive one on your eye there.”

Luca gawped at him. “Do tell me if I'm actually dreaming. I'd really like to wake up in a nice tavern bed right now.” She said. Varric smirked and shrugged noncommittally. 

“I'm afraid this is not the Fade. As unfortunate as it is we are here and it is us who have to deal with the Breach. I am Solas. I am a wandering Fade scholar and thought to lend my aid here.”

“So...you're an apostate.” Luca interrupted, she looked at him with even more suspicion than before.

Solas looked towards Cassandra and then back to Luca coolly. “Perhaps now is not the best time to discuss the Chantry's semantics...”

They were interrupted by a shout.

“Thank the Maker! Our men cannot hold for much longer. Is she here?” a blond man with a fur cloak rushed in, sword drawn and stained with black blood. His eyes met Luca's, they were amber-rich and though weary he was clearly pleased to see her. It surprised Luca after Cassandra's steely coldness.

“Glad to see you, Commander Cullen. Mark or no mark we must proceed with caution. She is still our prime suspect for this atrocity.” Cassandra said, looking sidelong at Luca. The man, Cullen, looked slightly irritated but held his tongue. 

Solas interrupted, voice calm despite Luca's blatant distrust. “She does not have that kind of power. She is no mage and besides that it would require a mage of truly extraordinary power.” 

Cullen nodded. “Yes and she is our only hope. My men were not trained to hold against a legion of demons. Get her up to the temple as soon as possible.” Cullen glanced down at her still-bleeding leg, slight concern in his eyes as he looked to her again. 

She met his gaze and stood stoic, she knew what he was checking for but the claw had thankfully missed the big blood vessel in her thigh. She would be bleeding to death at the moment if it hadn't.

“I will take care of the wounded.” he said, nodding to Luca as he left. Cullen rushed off and they watched as he supported a man who could barely walk up a snowy hill. He was like a knight from a fairy story. 

What a ridiculous thing to meet him on this hellish mountain, where the corpses burned all around.


	2. Herald

Luca laid stiffly on her bunk at Haven, trying to make sense of what had happened. First on her list of absurdities was that she had met Varric Tethras. The dwarf who had written all those crime serials (and trashy bodice-ripper romances but she wasn’t about to mention those casually).

Honestly that alone would have really topped out her weirdness chart for a lifetime. Who would think that a man who wrote such contrived plots would actually be living an adventurous life? 

The list just went on and on though. Bald apostate elf helping the Chantry? Check. Gigantic demon with a lightning whip that had practically singed her eyebrows and skin off? Check. Hearing the disembodied ghost-voice of the Divine call out to her? Really why not? 

However, the last and most wholly surreal item on her list was that people were calling her the “Herald of Andraste”. She didn’t know if she could even joke about that. 

She thought of the sheer relief she had seen in that man, Cullen's, eyes when he had laid eyes on her on the mountain. She had been their savior, his savior. The thought made her vaguely uncomfortable. 

She thought about the ripping, burning pain of closing the rifts, about sheer scale of what depended on her now. Then she closed her eyes and thought about running. She did not want to be a hero, much less some sort of religious...icon? 

But it didn't matter much now that she was now a hero and a prisoner to this new Inquisition. Beyond that it had finally sunk in that it she had physically been in the Fade. The spirit that had held her hand… 

Though Luca remembered many things about the Chantry all of them seemed locked away in a neverland of fine velvets and expensive incense. For the first time in a long time she thought of her pious older sisters and her baby brother playing at templar with his wooden swords. It was a lifetime ago, the images in her head as distant and flat as paper puppets. 

She didn't usually bother with prayers but for them she wanted to say a few. She could only manage a few broken verses and then felt a little silly for trying. She got up and headed to the Chantry for a meeting with the Inquisition leaders. As she walked through the town, she realized she would never be prepared for the whispers that always seemed to reverberate through Haven in her wake. 

“That’s her, the Herald of Andraste” a voice whispered to her left.

“She came out of the Fade, she actually walked through the Fade itself” a wizened mage said as she passed.

“Mummy! Mummy! Is that the hero?” a child asked as he tugged on her mother’s skirts. Luca smiled weakly at him.

Instead of feeling powerful, she always felt naked whenever this type of thing happened. Who was she even to deserve this kind of adoration? She felt strands of her black hair start to stick with sweat onto her face even in the cold mountain air.

Luca ducked inside the Chantry, scurrying into the War Room to avoid the Sisters that always loitered chanting prayers. An argument was already in full force.

"The templars contain magic! They are clearly the best suited towards this task!" Cullen said to Leliana, voice raised.

Josephine intervened. "It really doesn't matter if neither group will talk to us. We must try to contact relevant remaining members of the Chantry first. Then perhaps go to Val Royeaux. "

Suddenly all of the eyes in the room turned to Luca. Cullen had a sheepish look on his face. "Ah apologies Herald..." 

"What's going on?" Luca said, unsure of what else could really be said.

Leliana immediately took control of the situation, not even acknowledging the argument that was happening before. "We need you to go to the Hinterlands to make contact with a member of the Chantry, Mother Giselle. Prepare for intense fighting and head out in the next few days."

"Can I ask why it must be me?" Luca was a little taken aback by her directness.

"Well you have the mark, there are many rifts in the area. As there are all across Thedas." Leliana replied. Luca then felt rather dumb.

"Also It will be good for the Inquisition's influence for you to be the vanguard of our forces. People will see you bringing order, doing good. Perhaps more will believe that you are actually the Herald." Josephine replied expertly.

"Am I actually a 'Herald'?" Luca asked, the question hanging in the air. There was a small pause.

"Of course you are. Andraste herself delivered you." Leliana replied curtly, with a patronizing edge. She sounded slightly incredulous that Luca could even doubt Andraste's will. Luca realized that Leliana was _religious_ and decided to shut up about it. 

She made eye contact with Cullen and realized that he was making a sympathetic face. Luca realized that he must get a lion's share of this kind of one-sided argument between having to deal with Cassandra, Josephine and Leliana. She had to fight a small smile. Although she realized that it was unsuccessful when she noticed he was smiling back a little.

"Alright, alright. I'll go to the Hinterlands and get this Mother Giselle." Luca conceded.


	3. Lions and Bears

Cullen walked into the war room slightly later than he had planned, Harritt had accosted him to complain about equipment maintenance angrily waving a rusty sword. When he finally got there Josephine and Leliana were already deep in conversation. 

“You haven’t managed to get anything out of her Josie?” Leliana said, a slender hand resting under her chin, “That is very strange indeed.”

“I’ve heard a dozen stories from her of mercenary exploits but never a single mention of anything else. I don't believe a bit in her story about being a street urchin, she's too educated, it's hard to hide. Moreover she deflects every question of parentage or heritage. Do you think she could have been an agent at the Conclave, Leliana?” Josephine asked.

“If she is an agent, I don’t know who would have sent her. With so many templars, mages and chantry clerics from across Thedas there, not to mention the retinue of servants, who would place an agent with a peacekeeping mercenary company?” Leliana paced around the war table, in her element. She looked up and noticed Cullen. 

“Have you noticed anything interesting about our Herald, commander?” Cullen noticed there was the lilt of a tease in her voice. He groaned internally, she must have noticed their conversations, he hated how Leliana read him like an open book. It was nice to have someone to talk trebuchet calibrations with whose eyes didn't glaze over within moments. 

“N-no, not in particular. Are you suspicious of her or something?” Cullen cursed himself for stuttering even that little bit. 

“We think our Herald is keeping something big from us, but we cannot figure what it is. She is already very wary of me I think, I caught her attempting to duck into the Chantry basement when I was trying to introduce her to Bann Loren the other day,” Josephine mused. 

“What do you think she is trying to keep from us?” Cullen the looks the two women were giving each made him feel misplaced.

“Her entire background it seems. The Herald is being conspicuously guarded about innocent information. More than that she is lying to us very poorly.” Leliana looked at Josephine, then at Cullen again, “She is so wary of us already, but I think she would more open to you.”

“Why, why would that be?” Cullen gulped, he didn't know why that observation would make him feel nervous.

“Commander you cannot be unaware of your…appeal,” Leliana said with amusement in her eyes. Cullen's face immediately dropped to a grimace. He hated it when Leliana had that tone to her voice. The last time he had heard it, she had trapped him into a conversation with a very _handsy_ and elderly lord for the better part of an hour.

“Yes and I think that it has not been unpleasant for you to talk to her.” Josephine added, smirking slightly. 

“Maker's breath. Can you two try to not _use_ me all the time in your games? Why is this important compared to the readiness of our forces? Haven is not exactly the most defensible...” Cullen huffed. Leliana cut him off before he could continue.

“Get to know our Herald better. It is important to our cause what kind of person she is. The entire Inquisition depends on her character, Cullen. She could betray us, sell us out to our enemies for all we know about her. Do not be so trusting of everyone.” Leliana’s ability to go from teasing bard to spymaster sometimes caught Cullen off guard. 

“I...agree that it is important and I will try my best” Cullen replied, sighing. Leliana did have a point, he just didn't think like her. He found it hard to understand why anyone would want to always be managing a menagerie of deceptions.

It was past midday by the time they finished discussing all of the reports that had come in in the past few days. He shuffled off to his tent afterwards to take care of yet more paperwork. He had to stop for a few minutes when his head started to throb and his penmanship slid into illegibility. 

Beyond the physical withdrawal symptoms, he had started to feel stranger changes in himself since he stopped taking lyrium. For so much of his life the lyrium had sat inside him like a constant companion; one that sang through his veins and mind with its own strange buzz. It colored absolutely everything with a lyrium haze.

Everything seemed more tolerable if you had lyrium. When he was younger he thought that it just meant that a templar could fight harder for longer. Now that he was trying to stop taking it, he realized that effects had influenced him mentally as well. 

As the months and years went on the lyrium had stripped him of his emotions. Everything that happened to him had an aspect of flatness. Relationships with anyone didn't seem meaningful, he didn't even write his _family_ for years. Worst of all it had happened so slowly and so insidiously that by the end he hadn’t really noticed at all. 

The first time he could tell there was any difference in himself was when he had first seen the Herald on the mountainside. There was a twinge of something inside him, part of it was the concern for her injured leg. However there was something underneath that he couldn't quite place. 

He had found himself feeling that same way when he would watch her meander over from Haven's gates to talk to him in the training yards. He thought that she looked special, with her black wavy hair down and blowing in the cold winter breeze. 

He had never really talked to a woman quite like her, though his sample pool was a bit small. A mercenary's life usually wore people down fast. However even though they were probably around the same age, she still had a sparkle. When she talked to him she would listen to whatever mundane concerns he had about their forces with a light in her eyes. 

He found himself smiling and laughing for the first time in ages when she recounted some farcical adventure story. He felt hugely flustered but oddly happy when she tried to tease funny stories out of him. The time when she had told him that he could lecture her for as long as he wanted, he actually had to stop himself from _blushing_. Templars did not blush. 

It felt wrong to pervert their conversations to Leliana's ends. It wasn't like he would want to share his entire personal history with strangers either. But no matter how enjoyable he thought it was to talk to her, his duty was to the Inquisition. It would be right to report to Leliana.

Cullen was spared for a few more days when Luca arrived back at Haven barely able to ride a horse. Mother Giselle was in tow fretting over her condition. He rushed over to help her off her horse alongside Mother Giselle, she was a gawky dead weight and he almost took an elbow to the eye. When Luca was finally placed on a stretcher, she babbled protests uselessly about how she needed to be back on the horse in order to get to Haven. 

“She is exhausted and has a fever, Commander, but she will be fine in a few days” Mother Giselle soothed as she rushed off to the Chantry with the soldiers carrying the stretcher. 

Cassandra had her arm in a sling, but otherwise looked fine as she unloaded packs from the horses. Cullen turned to ask and she answered him before he could even speak. “Our fight with some bandits had the great misfortune of attracting a bear, Commander” Cassandra replied sighing, “I trust you will not tell anyone unsuitable but it is a great point of embarrassment for me as a Pentaghast that we were forced to run halfway across the Hinterlands”

“Oh.” Cullen said, he hadn't really expected this. With all of the chaos and demons overrunning the Hinterlands, a bear? 

“Well I am glad that you are all back.” he replied blandly.

“Walk with me Commander, there is something interesting that I should like to tell both you and Leliana.” Cassandra flung two heavy packs across her back and gestured for Cullen to take a significantly smaller one that she didn't have the hands for. Cassandra dropped the packs off by the requisitions table and marched over to Leliana's tent. 

“Why does the Herald have templar training?” Cassandra cut straight to point as she barged into Leliana’s tent, Cullen in tow. 

“What do you mean Cassandra?” Leliana replied as she looked up from a report, deeply interested.

“She has never said anything about being able to use a sword. But I caught her using a dead bandit's sword in the heat of battle, just for a few moments. Her stance and style were pure templar, pure Chantry. When it was over, the sword was on the ground again, the mage was dead and she said absolutely nothing about it. Just complained about how the mage had burned up her bow.” 

Leliana listened intently to Cassandra’s story, mind clearly working at a thousand miles a minute. She turned to look at Cullen.

“Cullen do you have anything to add?” Leliana asked.

“There's been no problems with our lyrium supplies, perhaps she left the order before her joining? It happens rarely but King Alistair is one such case. Lyrium's hold is unbelievably strong...she knows there are templars here. If she were a recent deserter she would definitely have been desperate enough to try to get at it.”

Cassandra looked over at him with concern on her face, gauging him.

“It certainly puts into doubt the rudimentary story she told us about her past. When we first interrogated her she said she had been a street urchin in Kirkwall who joined a mercenary company as soon as she could to stay out of the brothels.” Cassandra added. Leliana nodded and placed her hand on her chin.

“Are ex-templars common in mercenary companies, Cullen?” Leliana asked.

“Not at all, it's not a logical choice for the rare templar that decides to leave. We are educated in the Chantry texts and know how to read and write. The Chantry usually takes those who can longer serve as templars and places them into less strenuous positions in the Sisterhood or Brotherhood. In addition, as I said before we are...leashed by the lyrium.” Cullen hoped his hands weren't shaking, he felt the cravings flare up. 

“Then it's not adding up and more confusing than we previously thought...I will have my agents look into this.”

As they left Leliana's tent, Cassandra looked over to him. 

“Stay strong.” she said as she walked away. 

He walked back to his tent and had to lay down, body wracked with pain and sweat. He thought of Luca and wondered who she was, if there was any chance she had really been a templar. Did she know what lyrium did to people? Would she understand how he felt now?

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for checking out my fic! My inspiration for this story was that I wanted to create an interesting backstory for the Rogue Trevelyan who is a bit bland and it doesn't make too much sense why they're a rogue when their family is this respectable noble house deeply affiliated with the Chantry. 
> 
> I posted this on FF.net as well. I've decided to rewrite it significantly and hopefully it's for the better.


End file.
